Prey

A Short Poem

Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash

Anxiety.

Leopard crouched
on the edge of a clearing.
Every cell is instinct.
Matted fur, fire-shot eyeballs,
dazed from hunger,
desperate.
Breath caught in
fevered focus,
waiting for prey.

Wanting to pray,
bedraggled monk
approaches the sanctuary
deep in the woods.
Frosty lick of morning
on his neck and bare feet.
Then a sudden realization
that perhaps every door
was locked, and he had
forgotten the key.

Enlightenment.

~New Orleans, 2021/22

Steve Spehar ©2022

the Remember poem

Another River Poem